


Speeding Up

by Katrina_Leann



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Lots of Angst, car crash, mentions of the inability to get pregnant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 08:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9875582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katrina_Leann/pseuds/Katrina_Leann
Summary: An awful fight ends in a car crash.(I'm going through some stuff. Here's the fallout of that.)





	1. Chapter 1

He could smell the smoke before he could see the fire. An angry torrent of red and orange and yellow.

He was trapped. Bits of metal and glass were poking out of his skin, blood pooling out from a gash somewhere on his head. The seatbelt.

It was holding him in.

_There was a certain feeling in the air, one that clung to his skin and increased his heart rate. "Belle?"_

_She was here. Reese knew that she was, but the house was silent. Belle was movement and light, joy and beauty. Her very existence had warmed his heart as her presence had warmed his home. But not now._

_The house was cold and there was still that undefinable electricity in the air._

_"In the study." Her voice was emotionless and hollow. Reese swallowed tightly, but started towards the study regardless._

Yanking at the restraint didn't do anything. The belt was tight across his lap, pressing against his diaphragm and making his breathing rasp.

Ahead of him the fire neared the turned over car, the heat of it close enough that Reese felt it against his cheek. "Damn bloody seatbelt!"

The release was trapped between the smashed console and his seat. Fingers slick with his own blood, Reese tried desperately to pull apart the two offending items.

_"Sweetheart, is everything alright?" The tension was at a peak. Her back was stiff and straight, her shoulders tight._

_"Belle?" His heart was pounding._

_"I needed some extra paper for that essay I'm working on. Remember that one I told you about?" She turned slowly, an all too familiar set of brochures clutched in her hands._

His head was spinning. The smoke had made its way into the car at long last, the heavy gray vapor wrapping itself around his lungs as he breathed.

"Help!" The word was no more than a whisper, garbling and weak. His hand was so close! So close that he could feel the smooth plastic of the release button ghosting against his fingers. So, so close.

Reese bit his lip bloody and pushed down with all of his strength, a smothered scream tearing from his burning throat as his shoulder popped. The seatbelt retracted and then he was falling.

_"Were you ever going to tell me?" Her voice was unbearably calm, her eyes empty as she faced him._

_He opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. No noise or sound, just his labored breathing. Speak, for the love of God man, speak! With every passing second of his forced silence, her body dropped a little more._

_"I made no secret of my condition, Reese. From the start I told you everything. And what did I get in return?" The tears brimming in her eyes finally fell, and his voice returned._

_"Sweetheart-"_

_"Don't you dare. You don't get to call me that, Reese," she held up the papers, flinging them at him. His first impulse was to deny everything, but how could he do that when the evidence was quite literally lying at his feet?_

_"It's n-not what you think! I mean, it is but," but what? How the hell did he finish that sentence? "I love you. I love you, Belle. It wouldn't be like-"_

_"Like you're taking a mistress?"_

His head banged hard against the partially melted steering wheel, black spots dancing across his vision. The fire was close, entirely too close, and Reese couldn't move.

Everything hurt. But the longer he stayed still, the more the pain was lost in a haze of darkness. The spots were becoming smears and Reese could hardly feel the throbbing in his shoulder.

_Mistress._

_The word hung heavy in the air between them, an immovable obstacle. Belle's tears dripped silently to the floor, her broken gaze locked to his._

_"It wouldn't be like that. I wouldn't...there are other ways!"_

_Belle scoffed, the sound stuttered and choked behind the sob he knew she was trying to keep in. The thought made him sick. "It doesn't matter whether or not you sleep with her or have it done by insemination, Reese!"_

_The tension was bubbling over now, deep and unyielding, edging toward the inevitable fallout. Reese only hoped that they could come back from this. "Don't you see, Belle? This can fix everything! We can have a baby-"_

_"At what cost?" She cried, the sob finally bursting out. "So I can see this woman carrying your child? Is that what price I'll have to pay? Watching her grow with a life created by the two of you?"_

_Reese reeled back, shaking his head rapidly in protest. Didn't she see? This could fix everything!_

_"The child would be yours! Ours. It's matter of conception shouldn't matter!"_

_Reese watched as Belle deflated, her entire body seeming to droop as she fell back against the desk. "Shouldn't matter? Reese, it matters more than anything." Her haunted gaze met his. "I told you when we started dating that I couldn't have kids. You took my hand and said that all you needed was me. What changed?"_

_"Nothing! I just..." He wanted forever. He wanted Lazy Sunday's and Family Friday's. He wanted walks in the park and movie trips._

_She took a few steps towards him, a sad smile twisted at her lips. "You want kids. A complete family."_

_"Yes," and when she looked like she was about to fall, he took the last few steps toward her and grabbed her arms. "I want that with you. Only you."_

_She shook off his hold and took a big step back, her eyes filling with tears again. "I-I can't do this right now. I have to-"_

_"Please don't," Reese begged. His hands shook and his voice broke. "Please don't leave." Belle met his gaze miserably, her lips trembling._

_"I can't be around you right now! I-I need some time Reese."_

_And there it was. For some reason, the blow didn't hurt as bad as he'd always imagined it would. Maybe because he'd been anticipating it for so long._

_"Fine! Just go, actually-" Reese took a step back, mimicking her earlier move. "I'll go. You can stay."_

There were sirens in the distance, the wailing shriek of them snapping him out of his daze. He needed to move. There was no way for them to pull him out of the at the angle he was currently in.

That didn't make it any easier though.

Using the bits of broken glass and metal as leverage, Reese drug himself through the wreckage. He had glass sticking out of his hands and arms, his hair was slick with his own blood.

The sirens were louder than before, increasing in volume as his head continued to throb. Beside him, the fire sputtered as it found a small puddle of...of...

The world froze to a halt, the bitter taste of copper filling Reese's mouth.

He saw Belle's hair, the smell of her perfume and the the taste of her skin. The blue of her eyes and the rich sound of her laugh. Somewhere, in another world, a door slammed and voices yelled.

Reese payed them no mind, focusing instead on the smiling face hovering just out of his grasp.

_Adrenaline coursed through his blood, sharp and sweet and addicting. The car was going faster and faster, his worries and heartbreak getting smaller and smaller._

_Who needed love? Or commitment?_

_The forest blurred around him as the car flew down the road. His body was light and his mind was free. He was free. Reese tightened his grip on the wheel and pressed the gas pedal even farther down._

_He never even saw the tree._

 


	2. Chapter 2

The sinking feeling in her stomach didn't surprise her as much as Belle thought it would have. Maybe because she'd been anticipating it somehow, a cold fist clutching her heart.

Reese Gold was one of those people who Belle had always known about, but never knew personally. Not back then.

Sure she remembered him from school, that one quiet kid in the back of the classroom - never late or disruptive. He did his work and turned it in on time, spoke only when he was spoken to and was always picked last for any group projects.

Belle had always meant to try and talk to him, but Grant Gaston made that an impossible feat. If she was being entirely honest, Belle hadn't wanted to leave the safe cocoon of repetition. Which she couldn't fault herself for, that "same stuff, different day" mentality was the only thing actually resembling stability in her life.

But she could fault herself for the first date. And every single date after that.

He'd jogged up to her, sweaty and stinking from football practice, to "inform her of her change in luck".

"I'm taking you out, Belle. On a date." His finger had tapped her nose in what Belle was sure he thought was affection but in reality only made her want to slap him, and then stalked off to rejoin his friends.

She should've said something. She should've stayed inside her cramped apartment that she shared with her useless father and not stepped outside when Grant pulled up in his red Mercedes. She should've ignored him when he knocked on her door.

She shouldn't have let him take her coat, nor her hand. She shouldn't have agreed to go to Granny's and sit in the center of the diner for all to see. She shouldn't have let him kiss her.

But she _definitely_ shouldn't have let him get away with breaking his index finger "playing ball with the boys" on the same day that Reese Gold came in late for the first time in his life sporting a black eye and a muttered, "I missed the bus."

Belle had known, of course she had. But Grant was captain of the football team and her boyfriend. So she'd told herself it was just harmless sport and no one got seriously hurt.

Years passed.

Grant became abusive and demanding, isolating her from the few friends she'd managed to keep. They'd had a huge fight that ended in him storming out and then texting her two hours later, telling her to meet him at Granny's. And she did.

Like a fool, she did.

That was the day everything changed.

The diner had been packed and Belle hadn't been the least bit surprised when she walked in to see Grant on one knee, a cocky grin on his lips.

So she'd done it. Said the word that she'd always wanted to say. The one that had been on the tip of her tongue since his protectiveness turned to possessiveness, his "love" now no more than a selfish, fleeting lust.

Belle turned him down.

Grant had jumped up in a rage, eyes wide and flaring up in rage. She'd held her ground and when he went to snatch her wrist, something stopped him.

Reese Gold had changed.

Where there was once a slight boy with stringy arms and thin legs, there was now a young man with wiry muscles and a confidence about him that Belle had never seen. "I believe that the lady said no, Grant."

Grant drew back his fist but before he could punch, Reese had his fist caught in his palm, twisting it until Grant's arm was pinned behind his back.

"Last chance, Grant. Leave her alone. Go home."

Who _was_ this?

Belle stared open mouthed and shocked, unable to recognize the small and quiet boy in the cold but calculated man before her. "Leave Grant. It's over," Belle had met Reese's gaze, the coldness and sheer brokenness visible for only a moment before a wall came up. "It's been over for a while."

Grant had seethed quietly, but stormed out nonetheless.

Everyone was silent.

"Thank you," Belle had said finally, desperately wanting to break the silence and to say something. "Thank you Reese."

His eyes met hers with a bitter sort of smile. "Don't mention it. That-" he waved a hand towards the door Grant had just stormed out of. "-that's not love. That's manipulation."

Belle blinked herself out of her memories, looking at the brochures on the ground across from her. Could she fault him for wanting a child? Of course she couldn't.

"Dammit, Reese..." she sank to her knees, her arms wrapped protectively against her middle. She missed him. It hadn't even been an hour and she already missed him _terribly_.

She could've gone weeks without seeing Grant, but Reese? Her heart ached and that meant something. She was still hurt - and rightfully so - but she was wrong earlier. Distance wasn't what she needed. She needed them to sit down and talk.

The phone rang suddenly and Belle almost smiled. Leave it to Reese to come to the same conclusion she had - better together.

Without even looking at the caller ID she answered the phone breathlessly, "Reese, I was just ab-"

"Ma'am? Is this Belle French?" The voice was unfamiliar.

"Yes. Who is this?" Her heart was racing and Belle chided herself. There was no need for-

"This is Theodora Potts from Storybrooke General Hospital. I'm calling you regarding Reese Gold."

The phone dropped from her fingers. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mention of possible suicide attempt. (It wasn't. But they don't know that.)

A car accident.

Belle stared at the floor, blurry eyes concentrating on the waiting room tiles. Reese had been in a car accident.

"Miss French?" The voice startled her, familiar somehow. "Are you Miss Belle French?" Softly accented, motherly almost. 

An anchor when she desperately wanted to succumb to the storm. 

Realization struck her like a train. "Nurse Potts?"

The older woman clucked softly, sitting down next to her and wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Just Theodora, dear. Or Tea if you please."

"Can I see him?" Belle's face lit up, grasping at the woman's hands. "Is he out of the operating room? Can I see him?"

Tea smoothed her palms down Belle's arms, hesitating slightly. "Indeed he is out-" the look in her eyes stilled the initial urge Belle had to leap out of her chair to go find him. "But it's not a pretty sight, Miss French."

Belle sagged back against her chair, her heart beating painfully fast as her throat clogged with tears. "W-Will he..." she couldn't even _say_ it! The word was too powerful and meant to much to be voiced aloud.

Tea hugged her a little tighter. "When the rescuers pulled him from the burning car, they didn't think he'd even make it to the hospital. He did. After he was unloaded and evaluated, they didn't think he'd make it after going under the knife. He did." Tea pushed her back with a little smile, one hand brushing the curls stuck to her tear stained cheeks away. "That boy's a fighter."

"Can I see him?" Proud of the way her voice didn't shake, Belle met Tea's unsure gaze pleasingly. "Please? I know it won't be a pretty sight. I just...I have to see him."

She could see the way the other woman's throat moved as she swallowed, her eyes swinging between Belle herself and a door down the long hall. After a terrible moment, she sighed. "Okay. Okay. Come along, then."

Belle nodded and stood, clutching the Tea's offered arm like a lifeline. Her eyes were already misted over by the time she made it to ICU, shaking like a leaf in Tea's arm.

_**Intensive Care Unit** _

Belle swallowed and released the breath she'd been holding.

"Alright, dear? It's not too late to turn back."

Not trusting her voice Belle shook her head, forcing herself to meet the other woman's soft and concerned gaze. "No, no. I-I'm okay. I just really need to see him."

Tea's arm tightened around her and then the door was being pushed open as Belle was ushered in.

The quiet click behind them pulsed throughout Belle's body, soft but final. This was really happening, then. It wasn't some twisted nightmare, she wasn't going to wake up snuggled in Reese's arms.

There was a low whistle that got Belle's attention, another Nurse calling over Tea. The older woman turned to Belle with a sad look. "I must be going now. Room 114, darling," her hand briefly grabbed Belle's, eyes completely serious. "He is alive. Reese is in terrible shape, but he is alive. No matter what it looks like." One last squeeze of her hand, and then Tea was gone.

Belle took a deep breath and measured her steps in time. _Inhale_...step one, two, three.... _Exhale_...step four, five, six... But that only lasted so long and before she knew it - before she was ready for it - she was at the door to room 114.

Gathering up every last bit of her courage, she pushed it open.

Reese was lying across the hospital bed in a pale blue gown, him arms connected to a mess of wires and tubes. But that wasn't what had Belle's attention.

His right arm and what she could see of his legs were covered in bruises and scrapes, long gashes and shorter superficial marks.

It took her less than two seconds to fly to his side, clutching his left hand between both of hers and pressing long kisses to each knuckle and finger. "Reese..."

He looked like hell.

His eyes were blackened slightly and shadowed, his face unnaturally pale. Fat teardrops rolled off of Belle's cheeks, dripping onto his bruises and splashing against his skin. "Reese..."

For the first time in her life, Belle was immeasurably grateful for her slight build. Very carefully she slipped into the little space on the bed not occupied by Reese or any wires, tangling their fingers together and holding their joined hands to her chest.

Her body inevitably relaxed but Belle didn't fight it, letting the exhaustion wash over her and making sure to keep holding his hand even as she fell asleep.

_"Polycystic ovarian syndrome? W-What is that?"_

_Doctor Smith sighed, patting her leg comfortingly. "PCOS is a condition in which a woman’s levels of the sex hormones estrogen and progesterone are out of balance. There's no real cause, Belle. Do you know about your family history?"_

_Belle shook her head. "Mama died when I was sixteen. Papa never really recovered from that."_

_His fingers tapped against her leg, "I know, Belle. But...perhaps you ought to call him? Maybe he can help."_

_"Is there a cure? Some pills I need to take?" Her eyes watered but Belle ignored it. She hadn't really ever thought about being a mother, but now that it was being taken away from her, she'd do whatever it took to get it back. She wanted a child._

_"I wish it was that simple Belle, but it's not. The cases for this are all so different. Some women can adjust their birth control and that'll fix it. Some just need to lose weight. The severity differs."_

_Sucking in a deep breath, Belle nodded. "Alright. Just tell me what I need to do."_

"Miss French?" Fingers tapped against her arm. "Miss French, I need you to wake up."

Belle blinked groggily and rubbed at her eyes. "Doctor Whale?"

Victor smiled, settling himself in the stool at the side of the bed. "Indeed. How're you holding up?" His concerned gaze brought her crashing back into reality, her tears starting anew.

"That depends on how he's doing."

Victor nodding in understanding, the wheels squeaking as he scooted his chair closer to them. "He's still fighting, Belle," his reassuring smile melted into something not as soft and pleasant, almost like he was nervous. "I, uh...I have to ask you something."

Sitting up, she carefully turned to face him. "Okay."

Victor squirmed in his chair and ran a hand through his blonde hair, tugging at it a little. "Were you two fighting?"

Belle blinked in surprise, her mouth falling open in shock. "W-Why do you need to know that?" Her shock was quickly replaced with a burning anger. "What the hell concern is it to you?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "I took no joy in asking it, Miss French. But the police went to the scene this morning - just a bit ago - and sent back... questionable... information."

"Such as?"

Victor squirmed again, then lowered his voice to barely a whisper. "Officer Swan informed me that she has reason to believe this might've not been an accident."

" _What?!_ " That made no sense! What else would it have been? It wasn't like he'd actually...

"You think he did it on purpose. That's why you were asking if we'd been fighting." She felt completely numb. He wouldn't have! She knew him too well to put such a thing into serious thought. 

But he was also the safest driver she knew. 

Victor met her gaze with reluctance, his hands crossed on his lap as he leaned forward. "There wasn't a single skid mark, Belle."

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! 
> 
> TW: mentions of suicide

Three days.

Reese had been unconscious for _three days_. 

“His vitals are good, Belle,” Victor assured, tapping an anxious rhythm on his clipboard and smiling at her. His blue eyes were completely open and truthful, filled with compassion. 

“I believe you,” and she did. It wasn’t her belief that was faltering. “But it’s been days.” Belle laced her fingers through Reese’s, bringing their clasped hands to her mouth for a quick kiss. Victor smiled at that. 

“He’s okay, Belle. I know that may seem hard to believe right now but he is okay. I need you to say it.” 

Belle hesitated, looking at Reese with a frown pulling at her face. He looked peaceful. If he was peaceful, did that mean he wasn’t fighting? Her heart nearly stopped at that thought, fingers immediately gripping Reese’s tighter. 

“Belle, I need you to say it.” Victor’s voice was reassuring, so much so that she felt herself relaxing the slightest bit.   
But he was also a doctor.   
He could just be saying that to keep her from panicking.  
  
“Belle…” he was suddenly kneeling in front of her and Belle swallowed thickly. She hadn’t even seen him move. “Reese is okay. I need you to say that, alright? Say the words.” 

“You’re absolutely _positive_?” 

Victor smiled. “We’ve run every test in the book. His oxygen levels are normal, his blood pressure is normal, CAT scans are clear…” his smile dimmed, “sometimes it’s just the matter of waking up. Reese is fine, his body is fine. He just needs to decide that he’s ready to wake up.” 

It sounded too simple to be true, but Belle trusted Victor. He’d never lie to her, not about something like this. “Reese is okay.” She watched as Victor’s face lit up briefly before he regarded her with mock confusion. 

“I’m sorry, Belle. I didn’t catch that.” 

With a little laugh, Belle repeated herself. “Reese is okay.”   
Victor echoed her laugh as he rose, patting her knee in passing. “Reese is okay.”

~X~

“…organization is another thing, sweetheart. Love you though I do, organized you are not.” Belle giggled softly and pressed a long kiss to his forehead. 

The skin under her lips was warm as opposed to clammy and cool, giving her hope. Her conversation with Victor a few days ago played through her mind and Belle nuzzled closer into Reese. 

“I’m here, sweetheart.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears and Belle blinked them away. There would be no crying. Reese was okay. “I’m here, you can wake up now.” 

Silence.

  
Expecting as much, Belle leaned back against the small bed, staring unseeing at the TV in the room. “You remember our first date?” Her fingers gently traced nonsense patterns against his non-IV’d but wrapped arm, random shapes and spirals. “We went up to Boston. You were so nervous.” 

It was long after Grant had proposed and Reese had come to her rescue. Belle smiled at the memory of his shaky hands taking her coat, the deep blush that had painted his cheeks when she called him handsome. “You were trying so hard, Reese. Being the perfect gentleman, asking about my day, talking with me about books.” 

Only, he _hadn’t_ been trying. His curiosity had been genuine, his comments on her books and reading choices in general making her mouth fall open in shock. Then of course had come the completely irrational but inevitable guilt about not saying anything to him when Grant had given him a black eye. 

“I felt terrible. It had happened years ago, but I felt so bad Reese. But you…you just _laughed_. You kissed the back of my hand and told me that I had absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” Belle startled when she felt the hand held in hers tighten briefly.   
His face was still relaxed and peaceful, his breathing deep and slow. Belle chided herself and shook her head.

  
Now was _not_ the time to start imagining things.

  
“Even then you tried to make everything better. You _did_ make everything better. I always felt so safe with you, I still do. It’s like there’s a net under me now. I-” Belle cut off with a startled yelp. His grip definitely just tightened. 

“Reese?” She combed her fingers through his hair, sitting up taller in the hospital bed. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

  
She watched in stunned amazement as his eyes fluttered open, then immediately slammed closed. “No light. Head hurts.” 

It took her a solid minute to register his words, only Reese’s pained whimper making her launch herself to the light switch and flick it off.

  
“Reese? Do you know where you are?” Belle took his hand both of hers and lowered her voice to an agonized whisper. “Do you know who I am?” Memory loss was an all too common occurrence after a car accident and the thought of Reese forgetting her made Belle feel sick.

  
His eyes opened again as his face twisted in something akin to disbelief. “Course. Belle. You’re m'Belle.” A noisy laugh bubbled up from deep in her chest, the tight knot of anxiety loosening and disappearing altogether. Nodding vigorously, Belle pressed another, longer kiss to his forehead.

  
“That I am,” she agreed, pressing her palm against his even and steady heartbeat. “Your Belle, Reese. _Yours_.” He’d fallen back asleep but Belle wasn’t worried. His body needed rest.

  
And she needed to find Victor.

~X~

“It happened so fast,” Reese raised his right hand to gesture, then frowned at the IV tugging on his right arm. “One minute I was driving, then I wasn’t.”

  
Belle smothered a whimper against his shoulder, burrowing closer. “So, it wasn’t…” her eyes burned as she considered it, seeing Reese’s determined gaze locked on the tree. Feeling his pain like it was her own. “You didn’t mean to?” Her voice cracked and she peeked up at him, seeing his brow furrow. 

“What, like suicide?” He looked down at her, seeing her slight nod. “No. No, no, no. I…it wasn’t…it was an accident, love. I was being stupid and reckless and I was hurting but it wasn’t that. Never _that_.”

  
Shaking with relief, Belle pressed her trembling lips to his. 

He hadn’t tried to kill himself. It was a terrible, terrible accident. But it was an _accident_. “I love you, Reese. I love you so much and I should’ve just talked to you instead of-”

  
His mouth covered hers, taking the rest of her desperate apology right from her lips. “I love you too. And it wasn’t just your fault, my love. I should’ve talked to you and I didn’t. But worse than that, I hurt you.”

  
Belle nodded and kissed his neck. It had hurt, but right now he’d just woken up and his left arm was in a sling and Belle was stupidly happy to lose herself in his eyes. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  
“Yeah, we do,” his slightly nervous smile made her heart clench. “Together?” The hesitant way he met her surprised gaze made Belle want to slap him. Or kiss him.

  
“You’re kidding right?”

  
Reese blushed and chuckled lowly. “I-I was just making sure. Didn’t want to propose without being sure that you’re still with me. That you still want to be with me."

   
“I’m yours, Reese,” she leaned in to kiss him, and then the rest of his words processed. “ _What?_ ”

  
He grinned and snuggled deeper into the bed. “Nothing. Just promise me that when we get out of this place you won’t go snooping through my drawers.”

  
“Our drawers,” Belle corrected breathlessly, watching as his eyebrows drew together briefly.

  
“Is that…okay?”

  
Not sure how to tell him just how _okay_ that was, Belle kissed him. “Yes, sweetheart. It’s more than okay.”

  
Reese relaxed against the hospital bed with a contented sigh. “Soon.”

  
Belle gave a choked laugh, happy tears burning at her eyes.   
His fingers stroked gently over her cheek, “I can’t wait for our future. I love you so much, Belle.” 

“I love you too.” Belle cuddled into his open arms, giggling when he playfully tickled her side. Reese was alive and happy and she was ridiculously in love with him. Better than that, she could see that love reflected in his own eyes.

  
The rest could wait.


End file.
